


take us down but we keep flying

by sabisun



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Depression, Drug Abuse, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Feels, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Mentions of Death, Past Child Abuse, Past Simon/Markus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 09:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17363018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabisun/pseuds/sabisun
Summary: “Go out with me,” Markus blurts out.“Excuse me?”Oh, fuck.“I-I mean, uh, a fake date.”Or the fic where Markus asks Connor to start a fake relationship with him so that his ex, Simon, stops trying to get back together with him. And well, Connor agrees.





	take us down but we keep flying

**Author's Note:**

> Hii, this is the first time I'm posting a fic, so I'm sorry if this is terrible lmao. But I hope you enjoy the journey that I've planned :D
> 
> Also, I wrote this before Shaolin's actor came up with a name, so the HK400 is going to be named Noah in this fic. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! <3

The sound of heavy metal rock jolts Connor awake. He sighs. He’s never hated The Knights of the Black Death more than he has now. Why did he think putting this as his alarm was a good idea?

Cursing his past self for all his life decisions, he blindly reaches for his phone and turns off the annoying alarm. He glances at the time and it’s somewhere around 6 A.M. He doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. Groaning, he tosses his phone to the other side of the bed. 

He rolls over onto his side when he suddenly falls off of his bed with a loud yelp. The blanket lands on top of him, giving him some warmth on the cold wooden floor. Too tired to get up, he closes his eyes thinking he might get away with a few more minutes of sleep. But then he hears a sigh and sees Hank leaning on the doorway, looking at him with the most disappointed stare Connor’s ever seen in his life. 

“Please tell me you didn’t see all of that,” Connor whines as he pulls the blanket over his face. 

“Then please tell me you’re not always this pathetic,” Hank teases. He obviously loves seeing Connor suffer, the bastard.

Still lying on the floor, Connor gives him a lazy thumbs up and reluctantly takes off the blanket. “Nope, I’m almost ready, Hank.” 

“Clearly,” Hank scoffs. His eyes are sparkling with amusement, but he keeps his voice stern when he says, “Now, get your ass off the floor. I gotta be at the station by seven today.” 

“Got it, Lieutenant,” Connor quips with a mock salute. Hank rolls his eyes with a fond expression and walks away.

Connor rubs his eyes and slowly stands up. He heads for the bathroom and then looks at himself in the mirror. His curly brown hair is an absolute mess, and his tired eyes stand out on his pale skin. Doing his usual routine, he brushes his teeth and washes his face. He takes his hair gel and tries to squeeze some out, but the only thing that comes out is air. “Shit,” he curses. He usually gels his hair, but today is not that day. Instead, he just brushes it a little, and goes to his bedroom to slip on a grey sweater and black jeans. Feeling too lazy to wear contacts, he grabs his glasses and puts them on. It’s the first day back from winter break, so no one can really blame him for his sloppy appearance. 

His phone suddenly vibrates from his bed. He reaches for it and reads the most recent message. 

_Kara Chapman_  
_Monday, January 4th, 2038_  
_(6:22) Morning Con! Sorry I couldn’t drive us to school today :(_

A smile forms on his lips, filled with affection for his friend. He unlocks his phone to text a reply. 

(6:23) No need to apologize Kara. This competition is very important to you 

_(6:23) But our daily routine of going to Jerry’s is ruined :((_

(6:23) You’re right, it is. How dare you?

_(6:24) :((((_

Connor chuckles. 

(6:24) We’ll continue it tomorrow. For now, you have to focus on your cheerleading. 

_(6:25) I know, but this sucks. I really need some of Jerry’s iced coffee right now_

(6:25) How about this? As an incentive for today’s match, I’ll pay for your breakfast tomorrow 

_(6:26) YES! That’d be amazing! Chloe’s gonna be so jealous though_

(6:26) She definitely will be ;)

“Connor! Come on and eat breakfast! I don’t got all day!” 

“Coming, Hank!”

(6:26) I have to go. I wish you the best of luck <3

_(6:27) Thanks, Con <3_

Connor hastily puts the phone in his pocket and grabs his bag. He runs out of his room and into the kitchen. The smell of bacon suddenly overwhelms his nose. Steam rises from the sizzling bacon in the pan that Hank is holding.

“I didn’t think you would actually _make_ breakfast today,” Connor says while he puts down his stuff. He takes two plates from the dishwasher, suddenly remembering he forgot to put the plates back in the dish rack last night. 

“I _can_ cook you know, and this is all we have,” Hank responds, looking down at the pan and flipping the strips of bacon. “Gotta do some last minute grocery shopping when I come back from the station.” Connor puts the plates on the counter beside Hank, waiting for breakfast to be done cooking. Then Hank takes a good look at him. 

“Wow, you look like shit,” Hank helpfully blurts out. Taking his spatula, he divides the pieces of bacon and places it into each plate. Connor gives him an annoyed look. 

“Thank you. I will take your thoughtful criticism into consideration,” Connor deadpans. He carries the plates and walks away from the stove. Setting them down on the table, he sits down on the chair with a huff. 

“Okay, you don’t look like shit,” Hank says, his tone apologetic. “I just thought you didn’t like your hair curly.” Connor hears the refrigerator door open and glasses clanging against each other.

“I don’t, but my gel ran out,” Connor complains. He runs his hand through his hair, feeling a little self-conscious. It’s not that he hates it curly, he just prefers it a little straighter. Which is, not to mention, the only straight thing he likes. 

A glass of orange juice appears in front of him, and he feels Hank ruffle his hair. “Well, for what it’s worth, it makes you look goofier than usual,” Hank jokes. Connor lets out a laugh, knowing this was Hank’s way of apologizing. 

Hank sits down and they both start eating. Changing the subject, Hank asks, “Why couldn’t Kara drive you again?” 

Just to mess with him, Connor answers with his mouth full. “She has a cheerleading competition to attend,” his voice muffled by food. 

“Connor, don’t talk with your mouth full. That’s disgusting. I didn’t understand a word you said,” Hank scolds. Connor snickers and repeats his answer after swallowing his bacon. 

“A cheerleading competition, huh? So early in the morning?” 

“Much preparation needs to be done in order to win. Today’s event is crucial for the state semifinals. Her coach wanted an early practice.” 

“And they decided to make it right after New Year’s? Figures,” he scoffs. 

Connor shrugs. It’s not like it’s anything new. Although, Hank never really liked how teenagers were held to such high standards these days. Stressing out over the tiniest things, whether it’s a minor quiz or a small project, Connor would let it get to him. Hank would always try to intervene and tell him to destress, even though that would be the last thing on Connor’s mind. 

Cheerleading is very important to Kara though. She’s been practicing during most of the break with her team, so he’s sure she doesn’t mind. Well, other than the lack of coffee.

“Anyway, I was just going to ask if dropping you off is suddenly going to be a daily occurrence,” Hank says.

“You don’t have to worry, Hank. I know you need your beauty sleep.” Connor winks and cue Hank rolling his eyes. “Kara will drive us to Jerry’s tomorrow morning like always.” 

“Hm, I’m starting to think that you should try getting your driver’s license. You know, you have your independence and freedom like a normal teenager, and I’m not yelled at for being late.” 

“You’re always late anyway,” Connor points out dryly. “And I’ll get it when I have time. If you really need to go, I could always take an autocab instead.”

Hanks shakes his head. “Nah, I’d rather drive you. I’ve read stuff where those taxis take you places you don’t want to be. Some of this tech stuff is bullshit. And I grew up with iPhones.” 

“Alright, old man,” Connor teases. “It’s not like your driving is so safe either.”

“Hey, don’t make fun of my driving. I’m a perfectly safe driver.” 

“Sure, Hank.” 

At the sound of his name again, Hank goes quiet and his face turns a little serious, seemingly uncertain about his next words. Connor suddenly feels dread come over him. “You know, you don’t always have to call me ‘Hank,’” he says, hesitation seeping into his voice.

Connor wants to leave the room and have the world swallow him whole. Hank has the worst timing for these types of conversations. Couldn’t he pick another time to do it? Or rather, Connor would like not having this conversation _at all._ Wordlessly, Connor abruptly gets up and puts his dishes into the sink. Hank lets out a resigned sigh and does the same. Walking into the living room, Connor sees the old Saint Bernard yawning adorably, waking from his slumber. 

He pets him, digging his fingers into the soft fur, the repeated gesture easing the tension off his shoulders. He takes in a deep breath, thankful that he avoided that discussion. It may have been a bit harsh, but it’s done and forgotten. For now. 

“Good morning, Sumo. You hungry?” 

Sumo responds with a ‘boof.’

Connor laughs as he heads for the kitchen. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He opens one of the cabinets to get Sumo’s food and pours it into his bowl. 

“I’ve been promising more food, so here’s a little treat for you.” He takes a few pieces of extra bacon left in the pan and rips it up into smaller pieces. Connor puts a tiny portion of the bacon into the bowl to avoid upsetting Sumo’s stomach. Seeing the bacon, Sumo barks happily and starts devouring his breakfast. 

“You spoil him, Connor.”

“Sumo only deserves the best, and nothing else,” he says with conviction.

Hank fondly shakes his head and announces that it’s time to leave. Connor quickly grabs his things and follows Hank through the door. 

“Be a good dog, Sumo,” Connor says, closing the door behind him. 

Going to the car, Connor realizes he and Hank will be in there together. Alone. With no opportunity of avoiding anything Connor doesn’t want to talk about. _Great._ This is going to be fun. 

He puts his bag in the backseat, almost deciding that he should sit here instead of the front. But he thinks better of it since Hank will just tell him to go up front anyway. Holding back a sigh, he moves to sit shotgun. Then he immediately slumps in his seat and avoids any eye contact, hoping somehow Hank won’t bring it up. The car rumbles as the engine starts up. Connor curls more into himself as he feels the pure frustration Hank is emitting. He hates himself for making Hank so annoyed. Yet, he still chooses this over actually talking. 

Hank starts to drive and an uneasy silence follows. No music playing today, he guesses. The air between them seems frazzled. Tired and worn out from many unspoken words. 

“Connor—,” Hank starts. 

“Do we really have to talk about this right now?” His voice slicing through the air like a knife, surprising himself with how sharp he sounds.

“I think we should, don’t you?” Hank bites back. 

Connor doesn’t respond, and leans his forehead against the window, accidentally hitting it with his glasses in the process. Hank sighs. Again. _Good job, Connor._

“Look, I just think we’ve avoided this conversation long enough,” Hank says with a gentler tone, trying to prevent any hostility between them. Some pressure leaves Connor’s chest, the need to defend himself lessening. 

“Sorry. Is it okay if we talk about it later then?” Connor asks, making his voice smaller. 

“It’s okay, Con. Later then.” Hank pats him on the shoulder as a way of comfort. 

The tension alleviates from the air temporarily. Connor glances at him and gives him a cautious smile which ultimately relaxes Hank. Then Connor looks ahead on the road. 

“You missed a stop sign.”

Hanks quickly turns his eyes back onto the road. “What? No, I didn’t. Stop it, you always mess with me.”

“I’m serious this time, Hank.”

The universe seems to be on Connor’s side because blaring police sirens suddenly fill his ears, and flashing red and blue lights blind the car mirrors.

“Fuck,” Hank swears.

“And what did I say about your driving again?”

“Not the time, Connor.” He pulls over by the side of the road and the police car follows suit. The policeman walks over to the car, and the person coming over seems familiar. Hank rolls down the window. 

“Oh, hey, Hank. Late as always, huh? I see you’re dropping your boy off to school.” He tips his hat to Connor. 

“Hello, Officer Miller,” Connor greets with a pleased expression. 

“Hey, how you doing, Connor? I haven’t seen you around in a while.” He grins. 

“Noah invited me last week, Officer.”

“I know, but you and your friends should come over more often. Melissa and I enjoy your company. And I told you to call me Chris.”

“Noted, Chris.”

“Okay, enough with the small talk. C’mon, what’d you pull me over for?” Hanks asks with an exasperated tone.

“Running a stop sign. Pay more attention to the road next time, alright Hank? Now, can I see your registration and ID, please?”

Connor smirks and gives Hank a knowing look. In response, he mutters ‘smartass’ under his breath and takes out his wallet. 

What a great way to start the day.

~

 _Noah Miller_  
_Monday, January 4th, 2038_  
(7:11) I just saw your dad

_(7:12) Damn, Hank got a ticket again?_

A small smile forms at the corner of his mouth as he sees the wonderful, stress inducing school that is Jericho High come into view. It’s a relatively old building that is a couple of stories high. White accents border the windows which contrast to the brown bricks that make up the school. Whoever built this was going for a somewhat elegant look, he supposes. Indicators blinking, Hank makes a right turn and pulls up next to the white stairs that lead to the entrance. There are some people sitting on the steps talking with each other. Others pass them, finding solace in the heat inside to protect them from the freezing morning. 

“You ready, kid?” 

“No, and I never will be.” 

Hank chuckles softly. “You’re gonna have a blast in college.”

“Looking forward to it,” Connor snorts while he gets out of the car to get his stuff. After gathering his belongings from the backseat, Connor closes the car door. Hank rolls down the window on Connor’s side. 

“You be good, you hear?” 

“I always am, Lieutenant.” Connor gives a final salute and walks towards the stairs. Up the steps, he recognizes the group of people laughing amongst themselves. Gavin Reed and his friends. Gross. Can’t wait to continue their awesome bromance, he thinks. When Gavin sees him, he throws him his usual glare while Connor sticks up the middle finger. Connor’s a mature person, he swears. On his final step, an obnoxiously familiar car horn blares through the moderate silence, making him turn around to see Hank leaning on top of his car. 

“I love you, Connor!” Hank shouts with a mischievous grin. From sheer embarrassment, his cheeks blossom pink and his body becomes a lot hotter despite the cold. Gavin and his friends appear to be giggling at the bottom of the stairs.

Hank really wants to ruin his life, doesn’t he. 

Connor almost wants to run away and pretend that he doesn’t know him. But to throw Hank off his little game, he summons the courage to dart back down and throw his arms around him in front of Gavin, showing that he isn’t embarrassed by Hank’s proclamation. Even though he definitely is. 

It takes a couple of seconds for Hank’s big arms to wrap around his torso, most likely taken aback at the turn of events. His lips curl into a smirk. He wins this round. 

“I love you too, Hank,” he says into his shoulder, all smug with no shame. 

Hanks seems flummoxed. “Whenever I try to get back at you, it backfires somehow. I don’t know how you always do it.” 

“Better luck next time,” Connor sing-songs. 

“You always have to get the last word in, don’t ya?” Hank retorts, affection lacing his voice. 

“Of course. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.” 

Hank just hums as a reply and squeezes Connor tighter before releasing him. He messes with his hair again and Connor lets him. 

“I’ll see you later,” he says warmly, patting his shoulder.

“See you, Hank.” 

Hank goes into his car and drives away. Connor heads inside, ignoring the insults the group fires at him. It’s okay, he can deal with them later. For now, he wants to see his friends. 

~

He finds Noah and Chloe having a conversation by his locker. Noah has his back towards him and Chloe stops mid-sentence when she notices Connor walking towards them. Chloe instantly brightens and sprints around Noah to tackle Connor in a crushing hug. He laughs at her giddiness, but stumbles back with a small cry from the force of the unexpected embrace. 

“Connie! I haven't seen you in so long!” She squeals into Connor’s chest as he loops his arms around her smaller frame and rests his chin on her blonde hair.

Her grip becomes tighter, making him wheeze out in response, “It’s been only a couple weeks, Chloe.”

“That’s long enough for me,” she says as she finally lets go of him before his poor rib cage breaks. “I missed you and your adorable face.” Her hands reach up to pinch his cheeks and Connor feels his face go red for the second time this morning. 

“Thanks, Chloe. I missed you too,” he says dryly, playfully smacking her hands away to adjust his glasses. 

She notices this action and immediately coos, “You’re wearing your glasses today! And your hair is curly! You look nerdier than usual.” 

“But in a cute nerdy way,” Noah chimes in. Connor turns to him with an expression that hopefully conveys an ‘I’m so done with you’ face. “Oh, come on. You know I’m right,” his friend teases.

Connor shakes his head, refusing to adhere to his antics. When he goes to open his locker, Noah jokingly asks with his arms wide open, “Aw, no hug for me, Con?” 

He snorts, but he still dives right into his inviting arms, circling his own arms around the shorter boy’s shoulders. Chloe then suddenly exclaims, “Group hug!” and leaps directly in between them to squeeze both of them tightly. They laugh and wrap their arms around each other, and Connor’s heart swells with affection. He closes his eyes and basks in the warmth of his friends’ arms. After a while, he’s the first to reluctantly pull away and goes to open his locker. 

“I wish Kara was here,” Chloe whines while Connor takes his books out from his bag. “Group hugs aren’t the same without her.” 

“Me too. But you can give her your famous celebration hugs tomorrow. I bet her team is gonna do great today,” Noah comforts, giving Chloe a little shoulder bump. 

“Oh, right! The cheerleading competition is today!”

“Were you enjoying yourself that much in Paris that you completely forgot about it?” 

“I didn’t forget,” Chloe defends sounding offended at the thought. “It just happened to slip my mind. Besides, it’s a Monday morning and we didn’t get to go to Jerry’s for a proper breakfast. No coffee means no brain.” 

“It’s alright, Chloe,” Connor says with a straight voice, mirth lying beneath the surface. He closes his locker and his friends follow him as he slowly starts walking towards his first class with a little bounce in his step. “Your time in Paris was clearly more important to you than your dear friends,” he says with a pout. 

Chloe weakly hits his shoulder as he and Noah break with quiet laughter, “Don’t be mean, Connie. I sent all of you photos through the group chat. My _dear friends_ were on my mind the whole time.”

“Right, like you weren’t actually thinking about North every waking minute,” Noah grins. 

“Shut up, Noah. You have a crush on Josh.”

Noah sputters and looks around them frantically. “Chloe! Don’t say that out loud! People will hear!” He heatedly whispers.

“I think it’s already pretty obvious,” Connor says, loving every minute of this conversation. 

“You think I’m obvious? Your big gay crush on Markus isn’t exactly a secret.” And now Connor wants to run away from this conversation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connor replies, hoping his voice doesn’t waver as he says it.

Noah and Chloe both give him unimpressed looks. “You literally stare at him all the time, Mister Heart Eyes. Don’t deny it,” Noah deadpans. Just as he is about to refute that he isn’t denying anything, the bell rings and Connor has never been happier to hear that annoying sound in his entire life than right at this moment. 

Connor clears his throat. “As much as I would love to continue this riveting conversation, we have to go. I’ll see you at lunch!” he says and zooms away, without giving them a chance to say as much as a goodbye. 

He practically runs into his physics class, his teacher shooting him odd looks as he drops into his seat, sighing in relief. His phone suddenly buzzes and class hasn’t started yet, so he takes it out and sees a message from Noah. 

_(7:31) You’re not getting away that easily Anderson_

Connor groans. 

(7:31) Can’t you let me have this? Just this once?

_(7:31) Nope :)_

(7:32) Did I mention how much I hate you?

_(7:32) All the time ;)_

The teacher announces that class is about to begin even though students are still flying in through the door. Connor slides his phone into his pocket, silently cursing his friend for not letting the topic go. Okay, so he may have a tiny crush on Markus. It’s no big deal. No one else other than his friends know. And he’d like to keep it that way. 

~

After a good hour of physics (and yes, he actually likes the class much to his friends’ dismay), he walks down to the gymnasium for a wonderful hour of physical activity (and no, he doesn’t like this class at all). The only exceptional thing about it is that he gets to see Markus. Sometimes, he’s even lucky to get the chance to see him, his golden brown skin all sweaty and beautiful, lifting up his shirt to wipe off the sweat on his face and revealing his well toned abs. Connor shakes his head, trying to get the thought out of his mind. 

Besides the actual running part, the worst part of gym class is that he also has to see—

Pain suddenly shoots from his shoulder as someone runs and shoves him to the side, throwing him off his balance, but he catches himself as he slams against the lockers. 

“Move, you freak!”

Reed.

Connor sighs. He tries to rub the ache away and speed walks towards the boy’s locker room to avoid the pitiful glances that people are giving him. As if seeing Gavin this morning wasn’t enough, he has to endure the next hour of listening to his unnecessarily irritating attempts at insults. If Kara was here like she usually is, this would be somewhat bearable. But no, he has to go through it alone this time. 

Once he’s done changing in the locker room, he grudgingly heads to the gym where people are waiting on the bleachers, talking amongst themselves while waiting for the teacher. He spots Markus sitting on the lower row of bleachers, cheerfully talking with his friend Luther. Coincidentally, Luther sees Connor enter and whispers something to Markus. Then Markus takes a quick glance at him making Connor want to sink in a hole, embarrassed by the sudden attention. He hurriedly passes them to sit on the bleachers above theirs, so that they can’t look at him anymore unless they want to seem conspicuous. They’re clearly talking about him, but Connor hopes it isn’t anything awful. A heavy pit falls into his stomach, anxiously wondering what they’re saying. He tries to ignore it and not let his concerns take over him. 

Curiosity is still simmering in his bones when he sees Luther get up and head outside, probably to get something, leaving Markus to himself. Then he goes on his phone as he waits for his friend to come back. Unabashedly, Connor tries to sneak in a few glimpses here and there, hoping no one else notices his infatuation. So maybe Noah and Chloe weren’t exactly wrong. His crush isn’t as tiny as he likes to think it is. 

Other than gym every other day, he and Markus share lunch and English together daily, where Connor can get away with glancing at him with gross admiration every so often. If Markus happens to look in his direction, he can quickly turn his eyes to the window and make himself look like he’s deeply invested in the tree that stands right next to the building. As long as Markus doesn’t discover his ever growing crush on him, then he’s fine. Like he has mentioned before, it’s no big deal. Really.

As Luther comes back with a water bottle in hand, Gavin also enters with his friends following him. He heads straight towards where Connor is sitting and starts being troublesome as per usual. 

“Hey, prick,” he greets with a cocky stance. “Thanks for giving us a real show this morning with your dad. Gave us some good laughs.”

Connor’s chest twinges a little and he grimaces, but not for the reasons Gavin thinks.

“Reed,” Connor begins with a pointed tone. “I see your sense of humor hasn’t gotten any better over the break. Though, I’m glad to see that your ego is still as fragile as ever.” 

“Shut up, you piece of shit. At least I don’t hug my dad like a sissy. That’s gay as fuck.” 

Connor rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’m gay as fuck and I’m proud of it. That doesn’t have anything to do with the lieutenant, and we have a good relationship. Just because your own father doesn’t love you doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me, Reed.” 

He hears a quiet ‘oh shit’ from one of Gavin’s friends and surrounding onlookers shouting ‘buuurn’ while Gavin falters, mouth opening and closing trying to find a response. “Fuck you. You think you’re real funny, huh?”

“Yes, I’m hilarious. Thank you for noticing.” 

“Fuck you,” he spits. “I’m gonna—.”

“Hey! That’s enough.”

Connor turns to the sound of the new voice, his breath instantly taken away when he sees Markus heading towards them like an avenging angel.

“I suggest you leave him alone,” Markus warns, his tone calm and dangerous. Standing toe to toe with him causing Gavin to flinch in response. 

Connor shouldn’t be surprised that Markus is defending him. Everyone knows that he despises bigots like Reed and will not hesitate to go against him. Yet, a small part of Connor is still surprised because he didn’t think Markus would care. 

It’s probably not about him though. Markus loathes bullies and denounces any homophobic comment he hears. 

Gavin tries to put on a brave face and look unaffected when he says, “Fine,” and turns to Connor. “This isn’t over, Anderson.” He shoves him again, and walks away with his friends in toe. Markus looks at Connor, his green and blue eyes carrying a thin layer of worry. 

“Are you okay? I also saw him push you into the lockers before, but I didn’t get the chance to ask if you were alright,” Markus explains with concern. 

Shit, he saw that. That’s what he and Luther were most likely talking about. The idea of Markus seeing the minor incident in the hallway makes Connor fluster, the sudden need to hide sky rockets. He doesn’t know why, but he wants to turn his tail and run. 

So that’s exactly what he does. 

“Yes, I’m fine. I have to go.” 

He excuses himself, not stopping when he hears Markus shout ‘wait!’ and rushes to the locker room. He can afford to miss one day of gym class. 

It’s not like he enjoyed it much anyway. 

~

Skipping gym, he goes to the library and falls into a seat with a sigh, realizing his anxiety took over to the extent that he completely missed a chance to talk to Markus. Quietly groaning, he puts his head into his hands. He’s a fucking mess. 

After a few minutes of sulking, he takes out his book to read the last of the assigned chapters for English, digging into the book until the bells rings. Thankfully, the classes before lunch are relatively uneventful other than learning French and American history. 

Strolling into the cafeteria, he sees Chloe and Noah already settled down, eating lunch at the table. 

When he goes to the bench, Noah doesn’t miss a beat when he says, “So, as we were saying this morning…”

“Really? We have to do this now? Can we just let it go?” He grumbles as he takes out his lunch bag. 

“Absolutely not,” Chloe says. “Especially when we heard a certain knight in shining armor came to your rescue during gym class today,” she beams. 

Before biting into his sandwich, he responds, “Nothing really happened. It was just Gavin being a dick.” 

“Did you at least talk to him?” Noah asks.

“No, I chickened out and left,” he replies with regret in his voice. 

“It’s okay,” Chloe comforts. “You’ll get another chance. After all, he has to notice your infatuation with him sooner or later,” she says with glee. 

“It’s not _just_ infatuation,” he argues. 

“Right,” Noah says, his tone oozing with sarcasm. 

It’s true though, despite what his friends think. He doesn’t _only_ lust after Markus. Sure, he definitely admires his physical features, but he also admires his genuine kindness, his benevolence, and the incredible passion in his voice when he speaks. Markus is especially animated during student presidential campaigns and when he leads several activist movements run by the school. His determination and compassion is what makes Connor want to learn more about him. But the only nice proper conversation they had was all the way back in sixth grade. 

He remembers when he was lonely and afraid of being in a new school. The bigger kids were seemingly daunting at the time, no one seemed interested in him and Connor felt like he was a small fish surrounded by sharks. Just when he thought he should leave, Markus was the first one to kindly introduce himself and ask for his name. When Connor hesitated, Markus waited patiently. He answered and Markus looked like he was the happiest person on the planet, as if it was an actual delight getting to know him. Markus continued to ask more questions with poorly hidden excitement while Connor timidly replied, secretly pleased. 

Their friendship unfortunately didn’t continue for reasons Connor doesn’t want to get into, but he will always cherish that little moment between them. They’re still friendly with each other, but it will probably be the only valuable moment he will ever get to have with him. 

“Speaking of the love of your life, he’s running for senior president this year,” Chloe informs. 

“That’s not a surprise. He’s our junior class president anyway. Why is this news?”

“It’s news because I heard that Simon is running against him this year.”

“Simon? His ex, Simon?” Connor says, dumbfounded. Markus and his friends are known as the Jericrew. The name is a little cheesy and cliche, but it’s high school and they’re popular so they automatically have a name. People are led to believe that popular groups are snobby and tend to see everyone else as inferior. While that is usually true for the most part, the Jericrew are friendly to everyone they meet and consists of four of the best students in this school: Markus, North, Josh, and Luther. 

Although, the number used to be five. It was until Markus and Simon broke up a few months before winter vacation. They were considered the cutest couple in school much to Connor’s chagrin. Everyone and even he was confused by the abrupt end in their relationship. What was even more jarring to people was that Simon hasn’t been seen with the any of the Jericrew members since then, even though they were known to be close friends. Simon seems to only hang out with Ralph or Rupert nowadays. No one knows what happened, but like all high school drama, rumors spread around like rapid fire with everyone theorizing the reason behind the breakup. 

Some say one cheated on the other and others say they had a massive fight leading Simon to be kicked out of the Jericrew. Connor doesn’t listen to those rumors though. He knows they’re hurtful and wrong most of the time. 

Still, he finds it weird that Simon has a sudden interest in running for student president. 

Chloe nods in response to Connor’s question. Taking in the new information, Noah asks, “Do you think it’s because he wants some sort of revenge?” 

She shrugs. “I don’t know, but I think it could also be some kind of tactic to win Markus back.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“He’s involving himself in one of Markus’ favorite hobbies. Maybe it’s a way of swooning him.” 

That does make sense, but he prays that isn’t the case. A sprout of jealousy takes root in his chest at the thought of them together again. He knows he doesn’t have a chance with Markus, but it doesn’t change the fact that it hurts when he sees him with someone else. It’s a shitty feeling. He hates it. 

Chloe notices his silence because she says, “Aw, don’t worry too much about it, Connie. I still think you’ve got a shot.” 

He doubts it.

~

After suffering through biology and calculus, Connor just wants to go home. During his last class, Connor can hear every tick of the clock as he painfully waits for English to end. He’s been thinking about what Chloe said at lunch, and it almost makes Connor feel guilty for staring at Markus when he should be paying attention to his teacher explaining the theme of _The Tempest_. If Simon does succeed, then Connor thinks he should stop his crush all together. Even though it seems impossible. 

He sees Markus start turning his way, and Connor squints, swiftly aiming his gaze towards the window. Oh, look, a tree. It’s a very nice tree. Lots of good looking branches with birds resting on top of them. 

Yeah, getting over him is going to be difficult. 

Connor tries to tune into what his teacher is explaining, and then he hears her mention something about the SAT exam and he immediately panics. He has to start studying again. It’s been a few days since he did and he’s falling behind. 

The bell finally rings and Connor gathers his stuff and sprints out of the classroom. 

He heads to his locker to put his books into his bag. Noah and Chloe come over and notice the rush in his movements.

“You got an appointment to go to or something?” Noah asks. 

“No, I’m going to the library to study. I have to review for the SAT.”

“Already? If Kara were here, you would not hear the end of it.”

“Please don’t tell her.”

Connor’s phone suddenly vibrates in his pocket, indicating several rapid incoming texts. He sighs. 

“I hate you, Chloe.”

She shrugs while tapping at her phone. “She would’ve found out, any way.” Connor unfortunately agrees. Kara can be terrifying when she wants to be. This will probably be one of those times. Connor rubs his head, suddenly feeling exhausted. He’ll check the messages later. 

“Besides, you need to stop worrying so much!” Chloe adds. 

“You know I can’t.” 

“How about join the art club instead? Study tomorrow. It won’t destroy your grade,” Noah suggests. 

“It might. Plus, you know I’m bad at drawing.” 

“Obviously. The little doodles in your notebook did not look like Markus at all,” Chloe helpfully chimes in.

Connor sputters out a reply. “Stop bringing that up! I thought we agreed to not talk about that!” 

“ _You_ agreed, but we didn’t. They were kind of cute though. You might have some potential as an artist.” Chloe winks. 

Connor turns his gaze towards the ceiling in exasperation. “Why are you my friends?”

“Cause you love us,” Chloe grins.

Noah laughs and continues, “The club is not just about drawing. I visited a few times and you can sit around, talk to people and just color. It’s not too serious. It’s pretty chill. It’ll be good for you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“C’mon, Con, you should go.”

Connor ponders his options for a few moments. He can either study and be miserable, or color and be miserable. The latter doesn’t sound as awful, he guesses. 

“Alright, I’ll go,” he decides. Chloe and Noah give each other triumphant looks making Connor skeptical of their true intentions. 

“What was that look?”

“Nothing! We’re just glad you made the right choice,” he says quickly. Connor’s suspicion worsens, but he doesn’t pry. He asks if they’re coming with him, but they both say that they have to go somewhere, leaving Connor a bit puzzled. Wishing him to have fun, they both head off to their cars. He supposes he’ll ask about what that was later. 

Remembering the numerous amount of messages sent from Kara, he takes out his phone and expects the worst as he shuffles towards the art room. 

_(14:53) YOURE STUDYING????_

_(14:53) ALREADY???_

_(14:53) ITS LITERALLY THE FIRST DAY BACK! WYD???_

_(14:54) CONNOR YOU BETTER ANSWER ME_

(15:01) I was just going to study for an hour or so! It’s not a big deal

_(15:01) Connor, you studied over the break and the exam isn’t until March! You have to give yourself some free time_

(15:02) I just want to do well 

_(15:02) And you will! You’ve studied so hard these past few months and it’s stressing you out. I haven’t seen you do something fun for yourself unless you’re with us_

(15:03) I know

The next text he writes takes him a few seconds to send, contemplating if he should say this. He presses send anyways. 

(15:04) But I don’t want to disappoint Hank

_(15:04) Connor…_

He immediately regrets sending it.

_(15:05) He would be proud of you for trying, regardless of what score you get_

(15:05) Can we not talk about this anymore? Please?

_(15:06) Fine, but just relax for now_

(15:06) I’m going to the art club instead. Noah said it would be good for me or whatever that means 

_(15:07) OOOOH you are??? You’re gonna have a lot of fun then, I promise ;)_

(15:07) Wait what does that mean? Why the winky face??

_(15:07) Don’t let me keep you! I’ll ttyl ;) ;)_

(15:08) Karaaaaa noo 

(15:08) Answer meee

With no response from Kara, he puts away his phone with a sigh. He’s in front of the art room and is about to enter, but stops when he sees a familiar face amongst the group of people. 

Markus. 

Fuck. 

Of course Markus would be in the art club. He knew this. He knows he is in every other art club in this school. His father is the famous artist, _Carl fucking Manfred._ Then he also remembers one of Markus’ art pieces made it to the gallery last year. How the hell did he forget? Connor slaps his hand on his face, slowly sliding it down to demonstrate the sudden agony that he’s being forced to go through. He feels like an idiot. When he sees his friends tomorrow, he’s going to rip them a new one; the bastards definitely knew. Perhaps he could go in unnoticed and try to be stealthy. _As if, you clumsy fuck,_ his mind tells him. Thanks for that, brain. 

Maybe he shouldn’t go in at all. Yet, he doesn’t want to disappoint his friends. 

Quickly taking a folder from his backpack, he ducks down and attempts to cover his face as he enters the room.

Under the folder, he can see that he’s heading towards an empty table. But he trips on his feet, causing him to crash in a thankfully empty drying rack and drop his folder. A tingle shoots up through his back, feeling every single judgmental stare that is thrown at him. Oh god, why did he do this. Now he just drew more attention to himself. Lying on the ground with the rack toppled over him, he thinks dying would be merciful at this point. 

“Are you okay?”

The universe must be laughing at him because Markus has to witness his awkward, disastrous self for the second time today. Connor glances at him, seeing light haloing his figure. He tries to come up with a reply while simultaneously thinking that he is truly an angel come to life. 

“I haven’t sustained any injuries, but I think my pride might be broken.” 

Markus chuckles at his comment and pulls the rack off of him, reaching out his hand to help him up. 

There’s only three things that run through Connor’s mind as he takes Markus’ hand: one, his hand feels smooth and soft while Connor’s palms are probably disgustingly sweaty; two, he’s going to have a heart attack being so close to him; and three, he’s helplessly gay, somebody please help. 

Once he’s standing, he thanks Markus for his assistance and immediately lets go of his hand. 

“You’re welcome,” he says as he picks up Connor’s folder and hands it to him. “Did you seriously think that no one would notice you coming in with a folder on your face?” 

At first, he worries that Markus is mad for disrupting their meeting, but he sees the teasing smile on his face and the fear vanishes. 

“It was a smart and very well thought out plan, I assure you,” Connor says, hoping his voice remains steady. As he takes the folder, Markus hums, and his mismatched eyes sparkle with amusement as he looks at him. He takes a few seconds to respond, as if he’s thinking over his next words. 

“Do you want some company? I saw you walk in alone, so I figured that you might want someone to sit next to,” Markus says, a little unsure. 

Connor would love to, but he isn’t sure he’s emotionally prepared for this. “No, it’s okay, I wouldn’t want to interrupt especially with the scene I made—.”

“Which was actually kind of funny,” he interrupts, mirth coloring his expression. 

“Well, thank you for finding my pain amusing,” Connor snorts. Markus grins and ducks his head down in slight shame. Connor’s buzzing nerves calm a bit as his lips form a small smile, taking in pride that he’s made Markus smile at least twice during this exchange. And also for the fact that Markus’ smile is very contagious. It makes his chest all warm inside. 

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Markus asks, his smile still illuminating his features. “You can color or draw or whatever you like.”

Connor opens his mouth to politely reject his offer, but Markus must sense what he’s going to say because he pouts a little. “Please?” His expression is similar to a puppy’s. 

This is so unfair. He definitely can’t resist that face. 

“Okay.” Markus beams and Connor does not regret an absolute thing. 

Markus grabs his sketchbook, some coloring sheets and blank pieces of paper from the other table and brings it to the empty table that Connor was previously aiming for. 

“So do you want to draw or color?” He asks, waving the papers in his hand. 

“Color, please. I’m terrible at drawing,” he answers, pointing at the coloring sheets. 

“Really? I’m sure you’re not that bad.”

“I definitely am. I tried to draw a bird once and Kara said it looked like an obscure version of a giraffe.”

“Okay, that’s pretty bad,” Markus laughs. He pauses, and then asks, “Kara, she’s your friend, right?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“No reason. You two seem pretty close is all.” Connor sends him a doubtful look. “It’s nothing, seriously, I was just wondering,” he says, shifty eyes avoiding his gaze. 

Does Markus…? Connor immediately breaks that thought process. No, that wouldn’t make sense. He and Markus barely interact. Plus, maybe Markus likes Kara. Which is honestly a weird thing to think about. The notion of his best friend and his crush together grates his brain. But he thought Markus still likes Simon? Or perhaps one of his friends is interested in Kara? His head is starting to hurt. 

“Kara is single if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“Oh, y-yea,” Markus stumbles. “Luther would be happy to hear that.”

So that’s what it was about. Once he tells Kara, she’s going to be thrilled to learn that Luther reciprocates.

“Uh, anyways,” Markus clears his throat. “Instead of coloring, I could show you some drawing techniques if you’d like?” 

“I’d be happy to. As long as you know that my hands don’t exactly cooperate with my brain.” 

Markus nods with a pleased grin. They settle down at the table and Markus sits right next to him, making Connor’s heart thrum with anxiety and excitement at the same time. Markus takes two sheets of blank paper and gives Connor one of his own pencils. 

Fiddling with the pencil, Markus starts with, “So, we can just start with the basics. I’m gonna make you try to draw a bird again.” Markus pulls up a picture of a blue jay standing on a rock on his phone. 

“Never mind, this is going to be horrible.” 

“It won’t be, I’ll make sure of it,” Markus reassures. “So what a lot of people assume some artists do is that they just draw the whole object right away. But that isn’t true. Instead, what I do is break down the object I’m trying to draw into small shapes. Then I draw the outline, and finish the larger details before I go into the smaller ones. For example…” 

Markus quickly sketches a small circle and an oval attached to the circle, the shapes already seemingly perfect after what Connor assumes is years of practice. “That circle is the basis of the head and the oval is the body.” He adds a triangle to the circle. “And that’s the beak.” 

Connor tries to observe carefully and listen to what Markus is saying. “You should give it a try,” he says. 

Under his gaze, Connor shifts in his seat and shakily takes his pencil and attempts to draw a circle relatively the same size as Markus’. 

“That’s good, you’re doing great so far,” Markus praises.

“It’s just a circle,” Connor hesitates, hoping that Markus doesn’t notice the sudden blush on his cheeks. 

“It’s a good circle,” he says, leaving no room for arguments. 

He just nods and draws the oval, struggling in the process. “Nice job. You know, I don’t think you’re as bad at this as you think you are.” 

“They’re just shapes, Markus. I don’t think you would say the same if you saw my drawings.” 

“I think I would. You seem to have potential.” Markus winks and all of his insides _melt_. He’s going give Connor an aneurysm one day. As Connor is just about to reply, the bell rings, signaling that after school hours are over. Has it really been that long? 

“Oh, I didn’t realize it would end so soon. I guess we could do the outline and details another time?” Markus asks. “I mean, only if you want to,” he adds hastily. 

Connor, a little flabbergasted that Markus wants to continue with these lessons and thus wanting to spend more time with him, squeaks out, “I would like that.” Markus brightens and begins to put away his stuff. Connor puts his incomplete bird into his folder for safekeeping. 

“Do you need a ride home? I could drive,” Markus offers. 

As tempting as that sounds, he thinks he’s reached his quota on the amount of times he embarrasses himself in front of Markus. “No, thank you. I have the lieutenant to drive me.” 

“Okay, I’ll walk you out,” he says with no further discussion. Markus walks to the other table to grab his bag and say goodbye to his club members. Connor waits awkwardly in the doorway, hands going into his backpack, but suddenly remembering he left his coin at home. Swearing, he swings his bag around his shoulders and Markus comes over looking concerned. 

“You alright?”

“Yes, I’m good. I just remembered I forgot something at home. It’s no big deal.”

Noticing Connor dismissing the topic, he just nods and they head towards the main entrance. An odd mix of a stiff, yet comfortable silence comes between them. Then Markus speaks. 

“I’ve also wanted to apologize,” he says, uncertain. Connor’s brows furrow, confused. Before he could ask what for, Markus continues, “If I said anything wrong during gym. You seemed upset when you left.”

Oh, right. He forgot his dramatic exit might have left an impression on some people. 

“No, please, don’t apologize. You didn’t do or say anything that made me leave. It was only personal things I had to take care of,” he emphasizes, hoping to assure Markus that he’s a beautiful man who did nothing wrong. Well, the whole message won’t come across like that. But it still applies. 

“You sure?”

“Yes, I was actually very thankful that you defended me. I forgot to say it then, but thank you.”

“Anytime,” Markus says softly. “Were you okay though? Gavin said some nasty stuff.”

“Yes, I was fine. I deal with him all the time so this was nothing new,” he says with exasperation as they finally reach the entrance. 

“You shouldn’t have to,” he mutters, a quiet anger sizzling underneath his words. Connor doesn’t respond as they push the doors open, stewing in the fact that Markus is marginally protective of him. 

A phone buzzes, and Connor recognizes that it isn’t his. Markus takes out his and reads his messages. “I actually have to go,” he says, somber. He looks at Connor and his mournful look fades into a luminous expression. “It was nice talking to you again though. We’ll see each other during another meeting this week?”

He nods. “Of course.” 

“Okay, I’m looking forward to it. I’ll see you later,” he says with a small smile, walking towards the doors. As he’s leaving, something inside Connor is still brimming with one unanswered question. Gathering his courage, he shouts, “Wait!” Markus turns to him, seeming surprised. 

Bravery leaves his body when Markus looks at him. But he still asks, “During gym, were you and Luther talking about me?”

Markus’ brows raise, a little taken aback by the question. “Yea, but it wasn’t anything bad. I promise.”

He hesitates. “Do you mind if I ask what it was about?”

Markus takes a longer while to answer, debating whether he should respond truthfully or not. Connor is about to just say goodbye and run away when Markus finally replies. 

“Your hair is curly today,” he states. 

Connor freezes. “You were discussing about my hair?” He should have just skipped school today. It would’ve been better than Markus seeing the filthiness that is his hairstyle. Oh god, did they discuss how it should be chopped off? Cause he’s already on his way to the barber’s at this rate.

But then Markus says, “It looks good,” which makes Connor freeze even more, if that’s possible.

“It really suits you,” he compliments, his bicolored eyes revealing some fondness, validating the sincerity in his voice. 

Connor is stunned into silence. His heart might have stopped, but he doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. A litany goes off in his mind. All he could think about is how _Markus noticed his stupidly messy hair and he actually likes it._ It takes him a couple seconds to get himself together. 

Finally, all he can stutter out is a timid, “T-thank you.”

Markus gives him a warm smile. “Get home safe, Connor.” He turns around and goes into the building.

Connor just stands there, staring at the spot where Markus was only a few seconds ago. Then he hears his phone vibrate in his pocket and it snaps him out of his reverie. Grabbing his phone, he sees a message from Hank.

_Hank Anderson_  
_Monday, January 4th, 2038_  
_(16:06) I’m getting groceries after work. You want anything?_

Still composing himself, he breathes in and out before he texts out a reply with unsteady fingers. 

(16:07) I’m good for now thanks. Make sure you get healthy foods! I will know if you don’t 

_(16:07) Yea yea. You got it, jeez_

(16:07) Perhaps I could accompany you? Is it possible to pick me up now? 

_(16:08) Sorry no can do Connor. These jackasses are making me stay at the station longer today. You got any of those friends of yours that you can catch a ride with and drop you home?_

(16:08) No, Noah and Chloe left earlier and Kara isn’t here

_(16:08) Is there anyone else? If not, I could try to leave early_

Connor remembers Markus’ offer, and suddenly has the thought of running back into the school to find Markus and accept the ride. He dismisses the idea, he doesn’t want Markus to see how much he affected him. Still, he can’t wait to meet with him again, his heart beating faster in anticipation. So he just texts:

(16:09) I can just take an autocab

There’s no reply for a few moments, the text bubble disappearing and reappearing.

(16:09) You won’t get another ticket if I take it :)

Another couple of seconds and then…

_(16:10) Fine_

_(16:10) You need to learn how to fuckin drive_

Connor laughs and proceeds to open the app for a cab.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I honestly didn't think the first chapter would be this long lmaoo. I would love to hear your thoughts on this, and constructive criticism is encouraged cause I really want to improve my writing :D
> 
> Updates are going to be kind of slow cause I'm a slow writer unfortunately. 
> 
> Next chapter is Markus' POV.
> 
> And if you wanna hang, I'm on tumblr: thedeviantleaders.tumblr.com


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